


That Electricity Thing

by pagerunner



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-27
Updated: 2011-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:50:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagerunner/pseuds/pagerunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh.... you were the runaway mage who could do that electricity thing!  That was <i>nice.</i>"  A little peek into exactly how that encounter between Isabela and Anders might have gone. Features the two of them and an assortment of the Pearl's regulars, set sometime before the game series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Electricity Thing

Isabela wasn't often surprised at the Pearl. She'd paid the place a long string of visits and had had any number of enjoyable dalliances to order, enough to get the idea of what to expect when she first walked inside. This visit was already proving to be a fascinating exception, though, given the commotion of laughter and curious noises from the far corner, and the rapidity of Sanga's greeting, as if she wanted to head something off at the pass -- or possibly ask for help.

Isabela, finding herself intrigued, waited to see what would happen as the proprietress stepped closer.

"Be forewarned," Sanga said. She smiled a little and shook her head. With one hand, she made a subtle gesture toward a young man several tables away. "He's short on coin, long on wishful thinking. Doesn't seem to be causing any trouble, exactly, but he's being quite…."

Sanga went searching for a word, but trailed off.

Isabela peered over Sanga's shoulder at the unfolding scene, which seemed to include two women and two men sitting in close quarters at a corner table. The center of attention was a blond man, rather tall, undoubtedly young, wearing what looked like a hastily assembled disguise; Isabela knew how to go incognito, and this man seemed too unaccustomed to his clothes to be experienced at it. He was clearly enjoying himself, however. So were the patrons -- no, the _staff_ \-- gathering around him. He had one of Sanga's best practically in his lap already. Isabela arched an eyebrow.

"Quite… _enterprising,_ " Isabela finished.

Sanga snorted quietly. "I have no reason to kick him out, but I also can't have him monopolizing my people without payment. And they're so distracted they aren't even paying _me_ mind. It won't be a real problem until more customers show up, but...."

Isabela caught the look Sanga had flicked her way. "Want I should keep an eye on him for you?"

"I'd be grateful."

"And I'll be entertained," Isabela said. "Although in exchange, I think I might ask for a little something extra…?"

She let the hint float in midair. Sanga pressed into her hands a brimming glass of rich amber liquid. Isabela sighed in pleasure just at the smell. "Ah, you know me," she said, and lifted her favorite brandy to her lips.

"Do keep your wits about you, though," Sanga said. "This one's a handful."

"All the better," Isabela smirked, and sauntered off to see what trouble she could get into.

She found it soon enough, even before anyone in that little crowd had properly noticed her. The tableau was certainly scenic enough already: lots of bared limbs and wandering fingers, the elegant curve of the Lay Warden's neck (Isabela spied the telltale griffon tattoo peeking out from beneath her loosened blouse), and a smile the likes of which she'd never seen on Cavan's face before, one that indicated surprise as much as genuine pleasure. He was usually putting on too much of a domineering act to wear an expression that open. Isabela took another long, satisfying drink and stepped closer. "Looks like I found my sort of party," Isabela said. "Mind if I join you?"

The Lay Warden -- her real name was Felda, if Isabela recalled right; no wonder she'd picked a nickname -- leaned back when the young man in the middle nudged her aside for a look. Isabela felt herself being somewhat drunkenly sized up, and so she did the same to him. He couldn't have been much more than twenty, maybe twenty-five, although his eyes seemed older than the rest of him, which was interesting. He'd also reacted to Isabela's approach with a certain caution, as if he were expecting someone to be looking for him. Still, upon taking her in, he relaxed. He smiled, in fact, and gestured at the single open seat. He had to remove one hand from Stasia's breasts to do it. "Be my guest," he said.

And if Isabela weren't mistaken, the slightest hint of light trailed off his fingertips as he moved.

 _Ah,_ she thought. _Now_ that _explains almost everything._ She held her tongue, though, and decided to come at it the long way. This could be prove to be even more entertaining than she'd expected, and she wasn't about to skip too far ahead too fast.

"I'm Isabela," she said instead, raising her glass in a mock toast. "I believe some of you know me…."

Cavan and Felda both let out low chuckles. Isabela playfully nudged the girl's leg with one foot, and stopped to enjoy her kiss hello -- the young man watched with evident appreciation -- before she leaned back and gave the others a long look. "I don't believe we've met, though?"

That last was to the young stranger. He brushed back a strand of hair that had escaped its ponytail, possibly because Stasia was playing with it. "I'm Ewan," he said, a bit awkwardly. Certainly a lie. Stasia laughed, in fact, and gave him a swat.

"You told _me_ your name was Anders," she said.

The young man shrugged, his smile sheepish. "Yes, well. Ewan, Anders, they sound just the same…."

"We'll be calling him Dominic next," said Felda. "And then maybe Florian?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Er, no, thank you."

Sanga's girls both laughed. So did Isabela, who added, "Now, me, what I'd call you is interesting. What exactly were you up to to make Ser Tall, Dark and Dominating over here smile like that?"

Ewan -- or Anders (and Isabela decided to go with the latter name for convenience's sake) -- gave Cavan a brief smirk, then studied his own fingers. "Oh, nothing much," he said idly. "Just a joke or two, some friendly company…."

The man smirked and nipped at his ear. " _Liar,_ " he said.

And then Anders reached up to teasingly flick him away, at which point Isabela _knew_ she hadn't been imagining things.

A tiny charge of light flashed off Anders' fingertips, catching Cavan on the cheek. He gasped and tilted his head back. Isabela watched the lightning shimmer against his skin and make its way down, crackling at the hollow of his throat and then disappearing beneath his silken shirt. The man shivered and sucked in a breath, moving like it tickled -- and maybe did something more. Quite _evidently_ doing something more, actually, given the sudden strained condition of his breeches. When he raised his head again, his eyes were still closed, but he was smiling. And the girls looked envious.

"I'd say that's _very_ friendly company," Cavan said in a low, throaty voice.

Isabela caught Anders' gaze and held it.

"You're a mage," she murmured. She was stating the obvious, but she wanted to see his reaction, and it _was_ worth seeing: acknowledgment and rebelliousness both, a silent sort of challenge. He was daring her to make something of it. Well, well.

 _An apostate,_ she thought. _And he's an apostate with obviously… varied… sexual tastes, and no compunctions against using his magic in the pursuit of pleasure? Oh, Sanga, I should have been paying_ you _for the favor!_ She leaned forward and set down her brandy glass, letting her expression slide toward fascination.

"Show me how that works," she said.

He grinned and crooked his fingers. Isabela murmured "budge over, will you, love?" to Stasia, and with a good deal of maneuvering (that involved as much bodily contact as she could manage), she switched places so that she was sitting next to Anders. This close, she could see the mud on his shoes and the way he'd had to cinch up his too-large pair of borrowed trousers… oh, yes, this boy was on the run. But far more interesting was _why_ , and that reason was glittering around his fingertips.

"I'm good with electricity," he said, as she leaned close. "And when I say good, I mean I _do_ have real power. If you wanted, I could blast a hole right through that wall over there…."

"I doubt Sanga would thank you for that," Isabela murmured. Anders' spell crackled brighter as he chuckled. It was intriguingly intense, blue-edged but white at the core, like a tiny concentrated storm.

"But I can control it," Anders went on. It moved around his hand, making goosebumps prickle on his own skin. "And if I focus it just right, let loose just a little bit at a time…."

"It feels _so good,_ " Felda sighed.

"Trust her on that one," added Cavan, who was still making lazy little shifts as if the aftereffects of the lightning bolt were still making their way across his skin. Anders watched their reactions and smiled. Then he turned again to Isabela.

"Do you want to try?" he asked.

Isabela wasn't about to look _too_ eager, but she had to admit it was a deeply intriguing idea. Besides, Sanga had practically thrown her at the man, which rather excused her from any… exhibitions… in the effort to find out why. So she gave him an arch little smile, and arched her back while she was at it, letting her breasts push against her tight-fitting tunic. "Do I look disinterested to you?"

Anders licked his lips, focusing on the evidence to the contrary. "No," he said, sounding amused and aroused in equal measure. After a minute he pulled his gaze back up to meet hers again. "Well then. You might want to hold your breath…."

Isabela did.

"And close your eyes…."

He was pushing it with that one; Isabela never went into anything blind. She decided to play along, though, squeezing her eyes _almost_ shut, although she left one open just far enough to glimpse what he was up to. Anders was concentrating, lifting his hand until it hovered above her mouth; she felt the phantom touch of the lightning in a tiny, tingling spark across her lips. Then he brushed down with a feather's lightness over her throat and down between her breasts.

From there, the spell spread out over her skin, tingling everywhere it went. Isabela felt it slide beneath her clothes like caressing hands, sly and insistent, increasingly intense; it was undeniably pleasurable, all those little shocks of feeling that made her skin ache for actual touch. She squirmed where she sat, feeling Felda press up behind her and Anders' breath against her skin -- he was sitting very close now -- and all the while his fingers were just barely touching her, but moving lower, their direction intriguing. And the spell was doing just the same thing. All those tendrils of electricity were concentrating into a more and more focused wave of power that was going right where Anders' hand had dropped, insinuating itself between her thighs….

Isabela had been known to break men's wrists before for touching her without explicit permission, but for this one, she'd make an exception.

" _Oh,_ " she gasped despite herself. The spell had come together now, redoubling on itself, and all at once it was shuddering through her in one hot, concentrated burst of sensation. It was astoundingly effective. Her muscles all clenched and tightened, her body throbbed, and _every_ nerve fired for one brilliant second. Then he moved his hand, and it faded. Isabela breathed in hard, suddenly realizing that she _had_ in fact squeezed her eyes shut after all; when she opened them again, she saw Anders size her up again… and wink.

"Bet no one's ever made you come fully clothed before," he said.

She repeated the salient word in faint disbelief, watching his own rough breaths and the flush of color that had come over his cheeks. She wondered exactly what she looked like just now. He was right, of course; she _had_ come, and come fairly hard, considering those little waves of pleasure still pulsing deep within her. That was the fastest she'd ever felt _that_ good. Still, as suddenly as it had happened… well, it was just like she'd thought before: there was no sense in getting to the end _too_ quickly.

"Oh, don't get too proud of yourself," Isabela said, wresting a little control of herself back. "That's only half the battle."

"It's the half most men never learn," Stasia muttered, truthfully enough. Still, Isabela smirked, watching Anders' expression turn quizzical. She rose to her feet, straightened her clothes and extended a hand.

"I propose a bargain," Isabela said. "If I pay for a room for the night, and chip in a little for these friends of mine who've been kept preoccupied and unpaid tonight…."

Anders, catching Sanga's stare from across the room, looked ever so slightly guilty.

"You let me teach _you_ how it's done," Isabela finished. She crooked _her_ fingers this time. "Besides, no matter how you look at it… it's _always_ better without clothes."

She watched as Anders flushed even deeper. A faint smile, however, was playing about his lips again. "Won't catch me saying no," he said.

"Well, then--"

"But," he interrupted her, sounding both teasing and hopeful, "don't you think if you're chipping in anyway… you could add enough for them _all_ to join us?"

Isabela paused, then threw back her head with laughter. "Do you think I'm _made_ of money? You're an optimistic soul, sweet thing," she said, and made as if to pull him away before he got any further ideas.

But then she caught the look on Cavan's face. And Felda's. And Stasia's.

And of course there was Anders, looking for all the world like a little hopeful puppy, or a kitten determined to twine between her legs and purr and meow plaintively until he got his way. Isabela's laugh turned rueful, and she glanced back at Sanga, who was indeed still watching the lot of them.

And smirking.

 _You_ planned _this, you clever girl,_ she thought. As if she'd heard, Sanga lifted one hand and rubbed her fingers together. Isabela shook her head but took the hint, and tugged a small handful of coins out of her well-concealed purse, laughing at herself this time. _Sad that I know just how much it would cost. I spend too much time in here, don't I…._

She felt Felda press up against her side again, and amended that to, _Well, the place_ does _have its charms, doesn't it._

"Third door on your left," Sanga told them all with suspicious cheerfulness the instant the coins hit her palm. "And since it's going to be crowded, and you with your--"

She looked at Anders, and eventually made a little magic-casting gesture with one hand.

"Just do try not to burn the house down," she finished.

Anders was still chuckling 'I'll do my best" when Isabela ushered him down the hall and through the door. And she thought with some amusement that after all she'd spent to get him here, she was going to do everything in _her_ power to make sure he did exactly that.  



End file.
